Learning to Breathe
by FoodOfLove
Summary: Oneshot, songfic, preRENT. April is dead. Who else does Roger to but his trusty best friend Mark? AR with some MR slash.


**Title**: Learning to Breathe  
**Author**: Kaye  
**Characters/Pairings**: Roger-centric; some RogerMark with hints of RogerApril (for this chapter)  
**Word Count**: 636  
**Genre**: Angst/Drama  
**Rating**: PG for boy-kissing  
**Feedback**: is like chocolate, but a bit better.  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own RENT. RENT is by Jonathan Larson. I don't own the lyrics to the song, either. As far as I know, they were written by Jonathan Foreman. Don't get confused over the two. Switchfoot only _wishes_ it could own me, but RENT already owns me 100 percent, so too bad for Switchfoot. But this story is mine, not yours.  
**Author Notes**: First songfic. This is also my time writing in the second person. Please don't kill me for making this short. This story is MINE, not yours. Unless you _are _me. Which you're not. And lastly, enjoy!

**

* * *

**

Learning to Breathe

_I could use a fresh beginning too._

You're sitting on the window ledge, at the door to the fire escape. You know she's dead. You clearly saw the cuts on her wrists in the bathroom. You were there. You had that traumatized look when you saw the pool of dried blood on the white tiles. You were there when the coroner placed her lifeless body inside that long black bag and carried her off to the morgue. You two were always together before. You shot yourselves up together, got high together… You were even with her a few days ago when her test results and yours both showed up positive. You were there. But why weren't you there to stop her from slitting herself? You could have been there. You could have _definitely_ been there. But you weren't. Instead of being there with her when she needed you the most, you were performing at the Pyramid Club with your band, even if you knew that your band hasn't even made two cents in the past year. You noticed that she wasn't in the audience, but you just put it off. How could you have been so stupid? When you finally come over to visit her, you are surprised by two things. A note with four words, _Baby, we got AIDS_, written on it, and the body of your dead girlfriend sprawled on the bathroom floor. It was all three weeks ago, but everything was still a clear image. You couldn't sleep, couldn't eat… couldn't stop thinking about what could have been done to prevent any of this from happening.

_All of my regrets are nothing new._

You feel a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your best friend sits down in front of you. He stares at you with a concerned expression on his face, saying something you can't quite understand. You hear a voice, but you just can't seem to take anything in. Your head is in the clouds, musing over your ex-girlfriend's death, over _what you could have done to stop it from happening_. Tears begin to form in your eyes. You didn't want your friend to see you like this, but how could you stop yourself? You were miserable. Your friend scoots over towards you and takes you in his arms in a tight embrace. You return his hug by placing your arms around him as well, burying your drenched face in his red sweater. Your friend tightens his grip as you drown yourself in your emotions and tears.

_So this is the way that I say I need you_.

You quietly thank him for being there for you. He pats your back, and soon pulls away, but not entirely. He only makes it to a point that you two are facing each other. You see the face of the doting friend that he is, and softly, gently kiss him on the lips. It was just a kiss, anyway. A kiss between two really good friends. There was no tongue or anything like that. Neither his nor your lips part at any point. Your eyes and his are both closed. You don't see them closed, but you know that they are. How strange it would be, to find out that your best friend was eyeballing you during something like this. It is you who keeps your faces together. He breathes through his nose, and you know it because you feel a small breezy sensation on your upper lip. You let go of him after a few seconds, and the kiss is broken. You gaze at each other for an awkward moment, contemplating on what just happened.

_This is the way that I'm learning to breathe_.

His lips curl into a soothing smile. You notice that yours do, too. Suddenly you feel so much better.


End file.
